


Dustland Fairytale

by BendyDick



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Greaserlock, Kidnapping, M/M, Outsiders AU, a lot of time period gay hate
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-05
Updated: 2013-05-05
Packaged: 2017-12-10 11:16:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/785450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BendyDick/pseuds/BendyDick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the late 1950's and all Jim cares about is catching Sebastian Moran's eye. He doesn't consider the potential risks for his twin brother if the other socs were to find out about his crush until Richard goes missing at school.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dustland Fairytale

“Why are we here?” Richard asked as he spun the bottle cap from his coke. It was sixth period but Jim had dragged Richard out of school promising him a soda, now that the soda was gone Richard was bored and starting to get impatient. “I want to go back to school Jimmy.” 

Jim glared up at his twin and hissed “Shut up.” He was laid out across the red plastic picnic table with a cig hanging loosely from his lips. It wasn’t lit; they didn’t have enough money to buy cigarettes so Jim would nick them off kids at school then walk around with them in his mouth until the ends broke. 

Richard sighed and swung his feet back and forth since they were short enough to just barely brush the floor when he sat. “Can I get another soda?” 

“You got a dime?” 

“No.” 

“Then no.” 

Richard huffed and flicked the bottle cap off the table and watched it bounce across the asphalt then come to a halt at the tire of a cherry red Chevy with silver rims and no top. That was a tuff car. He recognized it from school but couldn’t remember the kids’ who owned it. He turned to ask Jim but he was busy slicking back his already grease drenched hair. 

“How do I look?” Jim asked sliding the black comb from his jacket pocket through his dark hair over and over again switching sides after a few strokes. He looked fine as he always did. He looked tough with his dark eyes, pale skin and slicked back hair. He wore their da’s flannel which hung down over his arse and almost hid his tucked in white shirt completely so that only the shiny buckle of his belt glimmered under it. Richard never achieved that look. He was softer in his pastel sweater and khakis but Jim had greased his hair over the weekend for fun and some of the pomade was still clinging to him which made him look a bit more grown up than his fifteen years. 

“You look fine and dandy Jimmy.” 

“Good. Are they looking?”

“Are who lookin?” 

“The Moran boy’s. They were getting malts a second ago.” Richard rolled his eyes but looked through the big glass windows of the diner. Sure enough Sebastian Moran and his twin brother Severin, though you couldn’t tell like you could with him and Jim, were sitting at the high tops with a malt each. Malts were the most expensive drinks on the menu and Richard felt a jealous well up inside of him as he watched both blond, muscular socs ignore them. 

“They aint lookin’.” 

“Aren’t Richard, the word is aren’t or are not though I don’t expect your greaser mouth to get the hang of that. You have been sounding more and more American the longer we stay here. It’s disgusting.” Jim chided in a thicker Irish accent than even Da had. It didn’t make sense for Jim to try and fake an accent, people here hated foreigners and it seemed like they loved to beat them up. Richard had learned that fast so he did everything he could to hide his little lilt. 

“Sorry Jimmy.”

“Come one, want some candy?” 

“I thought you didn’t have no money.” 

“Didn’t have money for you to waste on a soda. Now come on.” Jim slid off the table top and onto the floor with a little huff then strolled into the diner trying to look as cool as he could. He had a slow hip swish and when he passed the two blonde’s he dragged his eyes up their body and smiled. Only Sebastian seemed to notice. He grinned then turned around to talk to the other boys gathered around at the barstools. 

In the back there was a candy section. It was smaller than the corner store’s but still had all the things Richard loved. He went straight for the strawberry ropes and double bubble wanting his treats to last for a while. Jim just picked up ten pixie sticks not seeing the need in disguising his sugar. All together they rang up to about 25 cents which Jim paid for. 

Richard unwrapped one of the bubble gums and started to chew on it. He tried to chew quietly knowing how the noise bugged Jim but his small jaw had troubles chewing the large piece of candy without opening a little; Jim shot him a glare and he tried harder. At the barstools the boys were staring. Their looks always crawled up Richard’s back and made him want to run. Plenty of the Socs had gotten hold of him and ‘rearranged his face into something more aesthetically pleasing’. 

“Can we go now?” Richard asked holding his hand out for Jim to take. He wasn’t listening; his dark eyes were glued to Sebastian’s blue ones. “Jimmy don’t. You know he don’t like you.” 

“If you’re scared go wait by the car.” 

“We aint got no car.” Jim glared at him and he nodded his understanding. Wait by the front door for someone to push you into their car and beat him up. He’d much rather stay with his brother even if he was walking them into a death trap. 

Jim walked up to the counter and positioned himself between two dark haired socs. He leaned all the way over pushing his denim clad arse high into the air. Sebastian looked over and gave it a once over before Severin saw him and shook his head. Jim turned to peer over his shoulder and wink. “See something you like?” 

Severin scoffed and shook his head. “You’re a little fag and we don’t got time for greasers like you. You aren’t even a true grease, just a poor kid with some pomade.” 

“Is that so? You’re brother seems to like it.” Sebastian’s ears went red and he quickly found the straw to his malt and for the first time since ordering it took a sip of it. Jim’s focus shifted back to Sebastian and with a whiny voice he said; “I’m bored Sebastian, get me out of here.” 

“How do you know my brother’s name?” Severin sounded alarmed and was looking around at his buddies as if sizing up who he could get to take care of the little pest. Richard started to pull on Jim’s flannel trying to get him to leave. “You don’t got the right to say my brother’s name fag.” 

“In Ireland the word fag has a much different meaning and I don’t mind being called it much.” 

Severin’s eyes narrowed. Now Jimmy had done it. It hadn’t been okay for him to like boys back home; it didn’t make sense for him to think it was okay here but perhaps he just didn’t care or maybe he liked running from guys four times as big as he was. 

“Jimmy I want to go.” Richard whined and tugged on his brother’s shirt again. 

“Just leave ‘em Rin. He wasn’t hurting no one.” Sebastian smiled apologetically. He was a nice kid sometimes, like when he wasn’t throwing kids into the dumpster behind the cafeteria with the rest of the socs. 

“He’s staring at you with intentions and I don’t like that. Some grease need to learn their place; whose with me?” The diner got real loud and Richard felt his throat swell up. There had to be at least ten socs in there. What was Jim thinking? 

“Are you going to teach me that place Severin Moran? Aren’t you and your brother in enough trouble with your Daddy?” Jim grinned and leaned back against the counter looking a chill as could be. Richard couldn’t help but admire him, still the encroaching socs made it hard to stay calm. 

“What did you say?” Severin’s ice blue eyes were dark with malice as he stood from his stool and came up into Jim’s face. “You have no right to talk to me like that.” He was so close Richard could smell the soap he used. It was the nice type that came in the fancy red wrapping. The smell was strong and smooth like black coffee and spice. Richard leaned in just a tad to get a better whiff. “You’re both faggots.” 

Richard shrieked when he felt his feet get knocked out from under him and it took a few moments of staring blankly up at the celling to realize what had happened. Everything hurt, especially his lungs and it felt like they were collapsing. He tried to call for his brother but nothing but strangled little gasps escaped his mouth. There was commotion and the shrill voice of the waitress floated around in Richard’s frazzled little mind. 

“Get out! Don’t you fight in my shop! Out with you before a call the cops!” 

He tried to get up and obey her; he didn’t want to be arrested, but he found himself incapable of moving. Tears started to well in the corners of his big, doe eyes and his breathing got even faster. “Jim!” He finally got out. “Jim don’t leave me!” 

“I’m not leaving, whimp. They just knocked the air out of you when they shoved you. You’re going to be okay.” Richard turned his head to the left and started to sob when he saw Jim. His eye was swollen and a bit of blood was running down his lip. He still looked ruff though, even rougher now with his gelled hair sticking up a tad. He looked scared though. 

“I’m sorry…” Jim shrugged and helped Richard into a sitting position. “Are the cops waiting for us?” 

“No. The socs ran off and good thing they did. I am mean when I’m mad.” Jim’s voice was sincere but his eyes spoke of fear; Richard didn’t mention it. “Let’s go home.” The two pulled themselves off the linoleum floor and started the long walk back to their small house near the train tracks.

**Author's Note:**

> Written sorta for silverbit but mostly because I am obsessed with greasers. I am sorry this sucks such arse. It is slowly killing me and taking up all my time. Please be kind >_>


End file.
